Hiding from Praise
by justkeeptyping
Summary: An entry for the 'stuckbeingrachel's Scars' contest. I hope you like the Prologue.


**Hiding from Praise**

**Prologue**

You can't hide.

It was a statement, a fact, an unbending phrase; you can't hide from the truth, from reality, from the pain…from the scars. Mara Jaffray learnt that the hard way, but wasn't that the only way? The hard way? Did another way exist? Because as far as Mara knew, there was only one way to learn a lesson. She rested the top of her head against the window, feeling the cold glass through her hair. And she couldn't hide anymore. The sun streamed through the window of the still room, and she could see the dust particles floating in the eyes, lifeless, dead, hiding. Only revealed when the sun shone through the glass at just the right point.

She tugged gently at the sleeve of her left arm, almost smiling, at the scars. Deep, red and angry ones that blemished her otherwise flawless skin. Cutting, she didn't' like the word, the sound of the word, the way people said it. As if it were so wrong. But they weren't, they were scars, everyone has them, just because you get attain them in different ways. That means nothing. She ran her finger gingerly over the newest one, wincing at the sharp stinging pain. A normal person would have cried out, but no, Mara wasn't normal. That pain was nothing, nothing to a heart as burdened and bruised and broken as hers. It was almost relief, she remembered her old friend. If they had a head ache, they would pinch their hands, so they would focus on the sharp, quick, short lasting pain. And for a moment, just a moment, they would forget about the building migraine.

But that was the problem, it was only a few moments. For only a few moments Mara Jaffray could focus on the sharper pain, and so she needed more scars. Fresh ones. She pulled up the sleeve of her right arm, and it was bare. But not because there had never been any scars, no, that arm was once glittering scarlet. But they had healed, she smiled wryly, the one saying that had to be true, time heals all wounds. How bittersweet and perfect. But she knew, time didn't just heal all wounds, it improved them. For now, that skin was tougher, the scabs had broken away to reveal new skin, stronger skin, better skin. And so when she cut into them this time, she would have to be more forceful, which meant, more moments, more moments of peace from her heartache.

Ah peace, it was something she had always had, but never truly seen. She was always peaceful, peaceful and calm. And…incredibly lonely. A frown took over her beautiful face as she realised it. Mara Jaffray…was incredibly lonely. Where had that come from? She was always surrounded by family and friends and people who loved her…and people who didn't love her. She was lonely at heart, she let out a small whimper as the realisation crashed down around her, and she hugged her knees closer to her chest, stiff from holding herself in that defensive position for so long. This was her life now, the same cycle day in day out, her heart longing and aching, but for what? Change? Release? Peace? Company? What did Mara Jaffray want?

There it was, her true motives, her true aims and ambitions and goals, and what she wanted…it was hiding. From her. And if she didn't know, how could anyone else? But her feelings couldn't escape her forever, and they certainly couldn't hide from her.

Praise…that was nice. Everyone liked praise, she looked down at her scars, she deserved praise. For suffering in silence. For not screaming and crying for the whole world to hear. For deciding to hurt herself, then to share her burden with anyone else. But no, no one could praise her, because she was hiding. What was this? What was she doing to herself? Digging herself a whole type paradox that soon she would never be able to crawl out of, one where she would be torturing herself. But isn't that what she wanted?

"Enough." Came a voice. She didn't look away, still gazing out of the window. Of course it was them, the one person who spent enough time to know what she was thinking, and why she was thinking it, and what she would be thinking next. She wanted to smile. "Please," Oh…that word. Please…they knew exactly how to make her rethink herself. Please…what a word, a word so valued, a word that incredibly wasn't thought up by Shakespeare.

She found she had to respond, and respond with nothing but the truth. After all, she couldn't hide from the one person who watched over her. To make sure she never did anything stupid. The person who she never would have suspected. Her guardian angel. "For you?" she whispered, turning to look them in the eyes. They stood in the middle of the room, still in the sunlight.

"That's all I'm asking,"

And despite her instincts, she stood up. Despite her morals, she took their arm, and despite all sense, she walked away. Walked away from the hole of inner turmoil and torture she'd designed for herself. Walked away. Leaving all the pain and hurt and lies behind her.

Mara Jaffray was closing the book, and opening the new one, finally setting her eyes, on the front page.


End file.
